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Lobe.

I

THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

SAY to thee, do thou repeat

To the first man thou mayest meet In lane, highway, or open street

That he and we and all men move
Under a canopy of love

As broad as the blue sky above;

That doubt and trouble, fear and pain
And anguish, all are shadows vain,
That death itself shall not remain ;

That weary deserts we may tread,
A dreary labyrinth may thread,
Through dark ways underground be led ;

Yet, if we will one Guide obey,
The dreariest path, the darkest way

Shall issue out in heavenly day;

And we, on divers shores now cast,
Shall meet, our perilous voyage past,
All in our Father's house at last.

And, ere thou leave him, say thou this,
Yet one word more-they only miss
The winning of that final bliss,

Who will not count it true, that Love,
Blessing, not cursing, rules above,
And that in it we live and move.

And one thing further make him know,
That to believe these things are so,
This firm faith never to forego,

Despite of all which seems at strife
With blessing, all with curses rife,
That this is blessing, this is life.

RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH.

LOVED ONCE.

I

CLASSED, appraising once

Earth's lamentable sounds, the 'well-a-day,'

The jarring 'yea' and 'nay,'

The fall of kisses on unanswering clay,

The sobbed 'farewell,' the 'welcome' mournfuller,—

But all did leaven the air

With a less bitter leaven of sure despair

Than these words-'I loved once.'

And who saith, 'I loved once'?

Not angels, whose clear eyes love, love foresee,

Love through eternity!

And by To Love, do apprehend To Be.

Not God, called Love, his noble crown-name, casting

A light too broad for blasting!

The great God, changing not from everlasting,

Saith never, I loved once.'

Oh! never is 'loved once'

Thy word, thou Victim-Christ, misprizèd Friend!
Thy cross and curse may rend;

But, having loved, Thou lovest to the end!

This is man's saying-man's !—too weak to move
One sphered star above,

Man desecrates the eternal God-word, Love,
By his 'no more' and 'once.'

How say ye 'We loved once,'

Blasphemers! Is your earth not cold enow,
Mourners, without that snow?

Ah, friends! and would ye wrong each other so?
And could ye say of some, whose love is known,

Whose prayers have met your own,

Whose tears have fallen for you, whose smiles have shone

So long, 'We loved them once'?

Could ye, 'We loved her once,'

Say calm of me, sweet friends, when out of sight—

When hearts of better right

Stand in between me and your happy light;

Or when, as flowers kept too long in the shade,

Ye find my colours fade,

And all that is not love in me decayed—

Such words, 'Ye loved me once'?

Could ye, 'We loved her once,'

Say cold of me, when further put away

In earth's sepulchral clay—

When mute the lips which deprecate to-day?

Not so not then-least then-when life is shriven,
And death's full joy is given,

Of those who sit and love you up in heaven,
Say not, 'We loved them once!'

Say never, ye loved once!

God is too near above, the grave beneath,

And all our moments breathe

Too quick in mysteries of life and death,
For such a word. The eternities avenge
Affections light of range;

There comes no change to justify that change,
Whatever comes-loved once!

And yet that same word-'once’—

Is humanly acceptive! Kings have said,
Shaking a discrowned head,

'We ruled once;'-dotards, 'We once taught and led;' Cripples 'once' danced i' the vines; and bards approved Were once by scornings moved;

But love strikes one hour-Love. Those never loved Who dream that they loved once.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY.

LOVE is the star by which our course we steer;
Love for our kind its image glassed below;
And, when the breeze of hope begins to blow
The radiance spreads of that dilated sphere
O'er Life's dark waters, nearer and more near.
A silver path that star appears to throw
Toward us, and with light that plain to sow
Which shakes beneath the shock of our career.
Thus is the brightness of our heavenly home
Itself a beacon unto those that stray ;
The beacon thus becomes the glittering way
To all whom hope impels her seas to roam.
What then is Hope? A Faith that dares to move
And what is Faith? The happy rest of Love.
AUBREY DE Vere.

ENOSIS.

THOUG

HOUGHT is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought;

Souls to souls can never teach

What unto themselves was taught.

We are spirits clad in veils ;

Man by man was never seen ;
All our deep communing fails.

To remove the shadowy screen.

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